


Lost and Found

by Raziel12



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Drift Psychology, F/F, Verah, flight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raziel12/pseuds/Raziel12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is not unusual for Eidolon co-pilots to experience an unusual degree of physical and emotional attachment. For siblings, this usually manifests in the form of extreme overprotectiveness and co-dependency. For non-siblings, the effects can be much more dramatic. Indeed, it is no coincidence that most Eidolon co-pilots share the same accommodation – accommodation that is usually set well away from the prying eyes of non-pilots.</p><p>- Excerpt from “The Psychology of the Drift” by Captain Serah Farron</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

**Note: This is set in a Pacific Rim AU where Fang and Lightning are co-pilots. That is, it is NOT part of The Vestige.**

**Lost and Found**  
 __  
It is not unusual for Eidolon co-pilots to experience an unusual degree of physical and emotional attachment. For siblings, this usually manifests in the form of extreme overprotectiveness and co-dependency. For non-siblings, the effects can be much more dramatic. Indeed, it is no coincidence that most Eidolon co-pilots share the same accommodation – accommodation that is usually set well away from the prying eyes of non-pilots.  
  
\- Excerpt from “The Psychology of the Drift” by Captain Serah Farron

X X X

In retrospect, they were lucky to make it back to their room before Lightning lost control. Drifting was a unique experience. To be in someone else’s mind, to be joined to them so intimately – there wasn’t a thing in the world like it. Well, maybe there was one thing.

“Fang, shut up.” Lightning shut the door behind them, locked it, and then shoved Fang onto the bed. The taller woman tumbled back, content to lay there as Lightning tossed her shirt off and then almost tripped in her haste to shimmy out of her shoes and pants.

“You know, I think at least half the people on base saw you feeling me up on the way here.” Fang smirked. Her Lightning was almost adorably shy when it came to public displays of affection, but the Drift always loosened the iron control she had over her emotions. The fact that they’d slaughtered another fal’Cie only added to the almost manic tension that now held Lightning in its grip. They’d won – again – and there was only one way to celebrate that.

“I thought I told you to shut up.” Lightning fumbled with Fang’s shirt, and when it refused to cooperate she simply ripped the garment off. Fang’s pants followed moments later, and then Lightning was pressed against her co-pilot, body-to-body, hands and lips everywhere. She needed to touch Fang, needed to feel every of inch of her until she forgot where she ended and Fang began. It was the Drift all over again, Fang’s heart matching the frantic staccato of her own. She wasn’t close enough yet. She could never be close enough. “Just shut up.”

Fang groaned. It was impossible to refuse Lightning when she was like this. The pink haired woman had somehow managed to get Fang’s bra and panties off without Fang noticing, and now Lightning’s hands were touching, stroking, caressing, and Fang was already coming apart, so wired that even the slightest touch might be enough. Trembling, she forced Lightning back. This was too fast. She couldn’t see Lightning’s face, couldn’t watch Lightning’s eyes for the emotions the other woman kept so well hidden from the outside world. Those emotions were for Fang alone, and she had no intention of missing them.

“Fang…” Lightning’s voice was close to a sob. Her hands moved restlessly, trying to close the gap again. They were only inches apart now, but those few inches were far, far too much. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see you.” Fang cupped Lightning’s cheeks and forced Lightning to meet her eyes. Maker, Lightning was beautiful like this: cheeks flushed, breathing heavy, and eyes filled with so much, need, desire, and love that Fang could scarcely believe it. Lightning reached for her again, and again Fang held her back. “There’s no rush. I’m here. You’re here. We won. So don’t rush.”

Lightning trembled. The urge to just shove Fang back onto the bed and have her in the most primal way imaginable was overwhelming. Her muscles tensed, and a bead of sweat trickled down to nestle in the valley between her breasts. Vaguely, she was aware of their legs tangled together, of the damp heat of Fang against her thigh. But as much as she wanted to take Fang right then and there, she had never been able to deny the other woman anything. If Fang wanted to take it slow, then Lightning would, even if it would almost kill her to do it.

“All right.” Lightning whispered the words. Her breath hissed between her lips. “You’re right. We have all night.”

Fang smiled and pulled Lightning down into a kiss. It was a gentle thing, an almost chaste meeting of lips, but little by little it deepened. Lightning’s tongue pressed against Fang’s lips, and Fang welcomed her. Lightning tasted like a spring storm, sweet and warm and everything Fang had thought she’d lost as she crouched in the ruins of Oerba with no family in the world but Vanille.

“Fang…” Lightning eased away. She ached, and the taste of Fang on her lips only made it worse. But she’d said she would take it slow, and she always kept her promises. “Tell me you love me.” She pressed a kiss to Fang’s throat, nudged her thigh more firmly against Fang, and let her hands wander over a body she knew ever better than her own. “Tell me you can’t live without me. Tell me you won’t ever leave me alone.”

Fang moaned, arched, hissed as Lightning’s lips found her breasts, licking gently until they found one peak and paused to suckle. “I love you.” The words came again and again as one of Lightning’s hands dipped low, stroking her belly, her hip, and then the soft, wet heat between her legs. “I love you. I love you.” It was almost a prayer now, lost and broken, and then Lightning found her, found the very centre of Fang’s need. “I can’t live without you.” A pause, a cry, a whimper. “I won’t ever leave you alone.”

Lightning heard the words, felt them shiver through her soul. How many times had Fang said those words to her? She wasn’t sure. But every time the other woman said them, Lightning felt like she had the first time: like she’d finally found where she belonged. There was nowhere to hide in the Drift. Each time they piloted, Lightning learned again how much Fang loved her, learned again how much Fang needed her. But the words still mattered. The Drift was something only they could share, something only they would ever know. The words… the words were for the whole world to hear. It didn’t matter that Fang spoke them in the privacy of their room. What mattered was that she’d spoken the words aloud. The words were solid and real, and Lightning repeated them, whispering them back as she kissed her way down Fang’s body.

When they’d met all those years ago, Fang had thought that Lightning was cold. An icy bitch, she’d called her once. But she was wrong. Lightning was fire. And much like her namesake, she’d crashed right through all of Fang’s defences without even meaning to. Fang had fallen, and she’d fallen hard, and before either of them had known it they were inside each other’s hearts as much as each other’s heads. Fang had melted through the ice around Lightning’s heart only to find molten heat within. It was a heat she’d come to crave, to need. Only she got to see this side of Lightning: a frantic, almost violent passion that left nothing in its wake save the ruins of what few barriers remained between them.

Another jolt of pleasure rocked Fang, and she arched up, hands clutching desperately at Lightning’s hair. The pink haired woman was there nestled between Fang’s legs, and the combination of her tongue and her fingers and the promises whispered against Fang’s heated flesh would –

Fang came.

And for long, endless moments afterward there was only the white-hot pleasure that radiated outward from her core in great, shuddering waves to leave her boneless and spent, hips still jerking up weakly as Lightning drew her orgasm out, touching and tasting until the last few shivers ran through Fang’s body. The brunette was lost, adrift, and then Lightning’s arms were around her, and she was found. Gently, Lightning kissed her, the raw passion replaced by heartbreaking tenderness.

“Hey.” Fang gathered her wits as best she could.

“Hey.” Lightning’s body still ached with need, but she could stand this, this gentleness before she let Fang take over. And from the look in Fang’s eyes, she wouldn’t have to wait long. “I was worried you were going to pass out.”

A smirk crossed Fang’s lips. “You think you’re that good?” She chuckled and let herself breathe in the scent of Lightning’s hair. “I guess you are.” She groaned. Her legs still felt like jelly, but she could feel the tension running through Lightning’s frame. It was so like her to put Fang first. “I love you.” It was spoken softly this time without bravado, only quiet certainty. “You know that, right?”

“Of course.” Lightning’s smile was soft. “I’m in your head.” She put one hand on Fang’s chest. “And in your heart. Always.”

“Good. I just wanted to say it again.” Fang shifted, rolling them over so that she was staring down at Lightning. “But now, I’m going to show you.”

Lightning bit back a moan – or tried to. Watching Fang come apart had left her close. She rocked her hips up, desperate for more contact. But Fang refused to give her that satisfaction. Fang eased back, lips curling at the edges.

“I said we’d take it slow, and I meant it.” Fang took both of Lightning’s wrists in one hand and used the other to keep a firm hold of Lightning’s hip. “Let me take my time, Lightning. I promise it will be worth it.”

With a ragged hiss, Lightning nodded. She could break free, but she wouldn’t. Fang always kept her promises. “I’m all yours.”

“I know.” Fang’s eyes wandered over Lightning’s body. Lightning’s whole body was flushed with desire, the pale skin marred as well in the places where Fang had clutched on too tightly in her passion. Almost without thinking, Fang reached down, soothing the bruises with first her hands and then her lips. 

“Fang…”

“Shhh…” Fang leaned back again and savoured the heave of Lightning’s chest as she struggled for control. Now where she should start? Perhaps she could start from the top. Then she could work her way down. “I need you to hold still. This might take a while.” 

And it did. Thanks to Fang’s teasing, it did. Fang was cruel, but it was the best kind of cruelty. Again and again, she brought Lightning up, hands and lips moving possessively over the pink haired woman. But each time, as Lightning trembled, ready and so, so willing to fall, Fang eased away. 

Only when Lightning was almost delirious, a litany of pleas and promises on her lips, did Fang finally give Lightning what she wanted. It was the most exquisite kind of surrender when Fang touched Lightning’s centre, fingers delving deep to find that place, that rhythm that Lightning loved so much as Fang muffled her cries with her lips. And at the end, as Lightning came apart, Fang pulled back to watch and to listen. She wanted to see Lightning lose herself, wanted to see Lightning’s eyes glaze and then flutter closed as her body arched and then went limp. But most of all she wanted to hear Lightning cry out, wanted everyone to know that she was the one who made Lightning feel like that. Lightning was hers, and she was Lightning’s. And that was all that mattered right now.

Afterward, not nearly sated but resting, they cuddled. And when Lightning remembered how to move again, she grinned.

“That was nice.”

“Nice? I think it was a little better than nice.” Fang smirked. “Just a little.”

“Fantastic then. Mind-blowing.” Lightning’s lips twitched. “But no more taking it slowly.” She still wanted Fang. Once was never enough, could never be enough. She wanted to take Fang again and again until neither of them could walk. “I’m through taking it slow.”

X X X

“Are we that bad when we get back from a mission?” Serah winced as another sharp cry came through the wall. She and Vanille shared a room next to Fang and Lightning. “I mean… we’re not… are we?”

Vanille shrugged. Although she was glad that her sister had come back in one piece, she was less pleased about having to spend another evening trying to tune out the sounds of Fang and Lightning having extremely noisy – and probably quite incredible – sex. To make matters even worse, her own Farron was in no condition to be having the kind of sex that would have taken Vanille’s mind off what was happening next door. Serah was still recovering from their last mission – a battle that had ended in victory, but put Serah in the hospital. 

A shudder ran through Vanille. She’d been beyond terrified when Serah had gotten hurt, but the pink haired woman would be fine in a few more days. In the meantime, however, the doctors had decreed a complete ban on any kind of vigorous physical activity. And things between them were always vigorous.

“Probably.” Vanille grit her teeth as a particularly ragged wail echoed through the wall.

“Really?”

“Remember what happened two missions ago? It was days before anyone else in the base could look us in the eye.” She grinned. “And your sister tried to kill me for defiling you. It was worth it though.” 

“It was.” Serah winced and Vanille was beside her in a flash.

“Are you okay?”

“Sort of.” Serah scratched her cheek. “You know how I used to pilot with my sister before she teamed up with Fang?”

“Yeah. I used to pilot with Fang.”

“Well… my sister and I kind of… ghost Drift.”

“No way.” Vanille fought to contain her laughter. She failed miserably. “So you’re still kind of connected even after all this time?”

Serah’s cheeks flushed. “Yes. I mean it’s not like I can read her mind. But sometimes… I can catch things. Usually it’s just impressions – emotions and that sort of thing – but sometimes I catch images and sounds. The more vivid it is in Lightning’s mind, the more likely it is I’ll catch some of it.”

“The more vivid, huh?” Vanille grinned. “So right now…” She glanced at the wall meaningfully.

“Yes.” Serah gulped. “Not all of it, but… enough.”

“Well, at least you know they’re okay then. Although from the sounds of it, they’re better than okay.” Vanille tilted her head to one side. “So… who do you think is winning?”

That earned Vanille a pillow to the face. “Vanille!” Serah’s eyes widened. “I am not going to use my ghost Drifting to tell you who is winning. You don’t, you know, keep score when we do that, do you?”

“Maybe. But you don’t need to worry. You’re winning.” She ran one hand along the bandages on Serah’s midsection. The pink haired woman shuddered and struggled not to lean into Vanille’s touch. “So hurry up and get better, so I can work on evening the score.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.
> 
> This is based on Fangrai Forever Prompt #178: Pacific Rim fusion/crossover. Fang and Lightning end up piloting jaegers, either together or separately.
> 
> Much has been written about the possible psychological effects of co-piloting a Jaeger. I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say that there may be… interesting side effects especially when it comes to couples that are romantically involved. As an aside, the concept of ghost Drifting (i.e., maintaining some kind of connection even without a neural bridge in place) is actually recognized in the Pacific Rim canon. I thought it would provide a touch of humour if this were something that Serah and Lightning could do. 
> 
> I wanted to do a chapter about what things would be like if Fang and Lightning were co-pilots, something that isn’t possible in The Vestige due to Lightning’s injuries. The fact that this is almost entirely smut also goes some way toward fulfilling my promises to certain individuals that I would finally sit down and right something smutty (after a string of semi-smutty/almost smutty stories). 
> 
> On another note, I’ve always been interested in what people do when writing smut. Do they try and set the mood somehow? In my mind, most smut fics are written in the presence of scented candles, romantic music, and a great deal of live inspiration. Not so for this chapter. In fact, the first draft was written while watching WCS Europe (a Starcraft 2 Tournament). I wonder if that means something is wrong with me? 
> 
> Let me know if you want to see anything else in this vein (I have a semi-dodgy AU for this already mapped out in my head).
> 
> As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


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